The Bonding Qualities of Slushie Facials
by Expendable Red Shirt
Summary: Hummelberry friendship. Now that Rachel's realized she and Kurt Hummel are destined platonic soul mates, she is determined to be the boy's best friend, no matter what it takes. And he most certainly has no say in the matter. AU-ish version of events. T for some crude language.


**A/N: OH MY GOD YOU GUYS! THE BOX SCENE! IT'S BEEN RELEASED! If you're a Klaine fan and you haven't watched it, it's on youtube so go watch it now! (Then come back to my story of course ;P.) It's so cute!**

Okay, now that I got that out of my system... originally, this was going to be a one-shot. But then I was five pages into it on Word, and still at only the beginning of the story. So I decided it would work better a short chapter story (because I hate those one-shots that seem to go on _forever).  
__  
_This is an AU, but not super-AU. It takes place in freshman year, and the reason it's not canon-compliant is that Kurt and Rachel becomes BFFs way before junior year here, and it also happens differently than in the show. But you can assume that they go on to their other years of high school, and glee club starts and things go generally the way they go in the show, though with less fighting between Kurt and Rachel. Got it?

**Warnings: **There is one offensive word used in this that I refuse to ever type outside the context of a story.

* * *

Slushies.

Rachel had never been fond of the cold, syrupy drinks. It was hard to be fond of anything when it was constantly thrown in your face – literally. But she couldn't say she hated them, because it was a slushie that led to the forming of her first – and so far, only – friendship.

Initially, it had seemed like just another average day in the life of Rachel Barbra Berry. She'd awoken bright and early, drank a cup of warm, soothing chamomile tea, and did her morning vocal exercises and work-out routine. She had picked out a particularly cute cotton-candy pink kitten sweater, that had two actual jingle bells attached to it where they would have been on the kitties' collars (she had always been fond of sweaters with extra ornaments – it was like 3-D for your clothing). She'd paired it with a pink and brown plaid miniskirt skirt that complimented the colors in the sweater perfectly, light pink tights, and brown ballet flats. She was most certainly dressed for success.

She'd sat through most of her classes ignored by the other students, and even the teachers, who rarely called on her when she raised her hand (which was every time they asked a question, of course, and sometimes when they didn't). Occasionally, if her hand was ignored but she felt it was important to inform the teacher of an error they'd made, she'd announce it anyway. In the case of Mr. Webber, her science teacher, this often earned her a detention, but it was worth it to make sure the faculty was performing at their best. One must always strive for excellence.

She'd eaten her (kosher, vegan) lunch alone in the library, like usual. Food wasn't technically allowed in the library, but the librarian never scolded her for it. Some might say that was because she pitied Rachel, but of course it wasn't. They were just tight like that. 'Homies.'

After the bell rang, and she'd packed up her things and bid a fond farewell to the librarian, she set out walking quickly and determinedly to her next class, Spanish. It was her favorite because Finn Hudson was in it, and she needed to get there quickly in order to secure the perfect seat from which to view the dreamy quarterback without being caught. She was not expecting for her progress to be hindered by an ice-cold slap to the face. She gasped, of course, because no matter how many times she was slushied, she could never get used to the initial sensation. But she'd had much practice dealing with these shorts of situations, and quickly regained her senses and wiped the blue slush out of her eyes.

Great. There was no way she was going to get to Spanish in time _now_.

She took a deep breath, ignoring the laughing jocks who were exchanging high-fives, and held her chin up proudly as she stomped off to the nearest women's restroom. She sighed as she finished wiping the last of the slushie out of her eyes, and blinked at her reflection in the mirror. Luckily she had a spare shirt, but there was nothing she could do about her hair, which was absolutely ruined. And she'd been having a good hair day today, too.

She was still staring forlornly at her reflection when the door to the restroom swung open. The noise made her jump, as she hadn't been expecting anyone to disturb her – class had already started and teachers rarely allowed students to go the restroom so soon after lunch – but her questions were answered as soon as she saw the chunks of purple crushed ice sliding down the person's face. Another slushie victim.

She noticed that this new person entering was definitely not a girl, and was about to politely let him know he was in the wrong restroom, when she saw who it was – Kurt Hummel, a boy in her grade who was tormented for being overly feminine and flamboyant in his fashion choices, and who most of the school assumed was gay. It was probably smart of him not to use the boy's restroom. He'd be killed if any jocks found him in there. It occured to her that it was actually a bit strange that they'd never talked, considering he was almost as unpopular as Rachel, herself.

They stood in awkward silence (or at least, it was awkward for Rachel) as Kurt lined several cosmetics along the rim of the sink and began the process of washing off his face. Rachel cleared her throat loudly, not sure if she should start a conversation with this fellow victim. The look he threw her clearly said she definitely shouldn't, but Rachel had never been good with hints.

"Hello," she said, voice as cheerful as she could manage, "I'm Rachel Berry." She stuck out her hand in offering.

Kurt stared at her extended hand for a moment, but did not reach for it, choosing instead to continue scrubbing his face before the slushie managed to soak into his delicate skin. "I know that," he said flatly. "I don't think there's a single person at McKinley who doesn't know who you are."

"Really?" Rachel replied, day brightened considerably. She was well-known – who'd have thought? Maybe she _could_ be the star of McKinley. "Well, I know who you are too."

_"Joy."_

Rachel wasn't exactly adept at social interaction, having not had much practice in her life, and honestly had no idea what she was supposed to say now. Admitting (temporary) defeat, she sighed and went back to washing her face. Her hair was still hopeless, though. Kurt was lucky – it looked like he'd been hit mostly on his face, not the top of his head, so he didn't have to worry about that. She couldn't stop the pout that made its way onto her face as she tugged at her sticky hair.

Suddenly, a white and gold bottle was thrust in front of her. She turned to see Kurt examining his face closely in the mirror, not looking at her at all, but there was no mistaking her was holding the bottle out for her to take.

"It's shampoo," he said shortly. "You need it. Your hair looks disgusting."

"It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for her. "Thank you so much!" she chirped. "I really appreciate this. I was just wondering how I was going to go out and face the rest of the school day with my hair in such disarray. I hope you know that I can reimburse you for the cost of however many ounces I may use, because you seem like the sort to have expensive shampoos. I, myself, use No More Tears strawberry-scented children's shampoo, as I have extremely sensitive eyes, and it just works well for me, plus I enjoy smelling like strawberries. Besides, it–"

"Rachel," Kurt said, cutting off her rambling. "Just shut up and wash your hair."

Rachel was so appreciative of his help that she decided not to give him a lecture on the rudeness of cutting other people off mid-speech.

Kurt went into a stall to change his outfit, and when he came out, he saw Rachel was having trouble with the logistics of washing her hair in a bathroom sink. Sighing, he ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him that this was a bad idea, and went over to help her. He pulled out the folding chair he always had stashed in the last stall that nobody used because the toilet was permanently out of order, and scrubbed the shampoo into Rachel's hair, while she yapped his ear off about something or other (Kurt wasn't really listening).

"…and of course that was when I decided that Finn Hudson was a rather charming football player, in comparison to the others, who are all sweaty and smelly and rude. That incident probably started my crush on him." Her voice took on a wistful tone. "I wish _I_ was his girlfriend, instead of that Quinn girl."

"Don't we all," Kurt muttered, grabbing a towel from his (Mary-Poppins) bag and rubbing it over her head.

"So you _are_ gay!" Rachel exclaimed suddenly.

"W-what?" Kurt stuttered. His eyes went wide as he realized that he had, indeed confirmed his sexuality not three seconds ago. Now there was only one thought in his mind: deny, deny, _deny._ "I don't know what you're talking about, Berry."

"You just said you'd want to be Finn's girlfriend – or boyfriend, I'd assume."

"You heard wrong," the flustered boy insisted. "I said I wanted to get with Quinn, just like every other guy at this school. Because Quinn's hot and, uh, has nice… boobs. Yeah, boobs. Gotta love boobs." He didn't sound convincing even to his own ears. Damn it, he wished he could lie!

"It's okay Kurt," Rachel assured, sitting up to look him earnestly in the eye. "You know I won't judge you." She reached out to try put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he jerked back, going on the defensive.

"Shut up, Berry! I'm _not_ gay!" His heart was racing, because just the idea of someone knowing, even if that someone was a girl with two gay fathers, it was just… it was too much.

"Kurt, there's no reason to lie to yourself –"

"I'm not lying, god! I'm not a fag like your fathers!" he spat. As soon as he said it, he regretted it, but before he even realized what he was doing, he'd already scooped up his bag and his cosmetics, and ran out the door.

Rachel couldn't say she was particularly upset at Kurt's harsh words; she knew he didn't mean them. She'd pushed him too far, and the insult was simply a defense mechanism. In any case, he'd looked guilty, and she'd give him a chance to apologize when she met him at his locker after school to return his shampoo.

~O~O~

It had been fifteen minutes, the halls were nearly empty, and yet Kurt was still not at his locker, where Rachel had been patiently waiting for him since her last class let out. Sighing and deciding she would hunt him down the next day, she began her trek through the halls towards the parking lot. Her route from Kurt's locker happened to lead her past the choir room, and she stopped when she heard a high, clearly trained voice echoing through the doorway.

Always on the hunt for a fellow star (or on the lookout for competition, depending), she quietly made her way to the second door, which the piano faced away from. It was, to her slight surprise, a boy singing. Her confusion at the high voice abated when she recognized the singer – one Kurt Hummel. Hmm, she hadn't known he could sing. Quite well, apparently. His voice was high, but not sharp. It was strangely smooth, for a countertenor. She rather enjoyed hearing it.

She listened to him for maybe half a minute longer before speaking up (she was not naturally a very patient person, and her fifteen minutes spent at Kurt's locker had used up her quota of patience for the day).

"We have nearly the same range, you know," she called from the doorway, and Kurt immediately stopped singing and turned around on the piano bench to face her. His expression was an interesting mix of annoyed and anxious.

"How did you find me, Berry?" he demanded. "Are you following me or something?"

"Actually, I was waiting at your locker to give you back your shampoo," she said, holding up the bottle. "After a while, I gave up, and I was leaving when I happened across you here. The walls to this room aren't exactly soundproofed, you know, and my ears are tuned for finding good singers."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should." She gave him a winning smile. "I don't usually give compliments, but I'd like to thank you for letting me use your shampoo after my slushie facial. I don't think my hair's ever been this smooth."

Kurt sighed and lowered his head. He was clearly having some internal debate, so Rachel stayed quiet for his sake. Finally, he looked up and said, quietly, "I'm really sorry, Rachel. You didn't deserve what I said earlier. You and your dads haven't done anything to me."

Rachel smiled widely. She _knew_ he'd apologize. "Apology accepted! And don't worry, I wasn't really offended. I knew you were just reacting to me pushing you about your sexuality."

"I'm not gay!" Kurt insisted.

"_Sure_, whatever you say," Rachel sing-songed. Kurt scowled, but decided not to start this arguement again.

He stood and accepted the shampoo from her. "Thanks for bringing this back. It's worth more than your entire outfit. Not that that's saying much." He eyed her outfit with clear distaste, but quickly reigned his disgust in. While being rude and snapping at people may have been his defense mechanism, there was no reason to act that way around Rachel Berry, at least at the moment. Not that it seemed to be affecting her; Rachel was positively _beaming,_ and there should be a rule the people weren't allowed to smile that wide. It was sort of scary. "So is that all you wanted?" He did his best to make his tone not sound irritated.

Rachel simply smiled wider (and _dear god_, how was that even _possible_?) and replied, "At the moment, yes." Then, to his immense surprise, she sprung forward and wrapped her skinny (but surprisingly strong) arms around his neck.

As soon as the hug began, it ended. Kurt had not hugged back at all; he'd automatically frozen up, a natural reaction to somebody jumping towards him, and he wasn't completely sure he'd have hugged her back even if he'd had time to recover from his shock.

"Bye Kurt, I'll see you tomorrow!" Rachel called happily, her skirt swaying as she flounced out of the room.

"You will?" he replied, voice slightly dazed, but she was already gone, leaving a dumbstruck Kurt in her wake.

Rachel, for her part, was walking on cloud 9. Why? Well, because she had just met her future BFF, that's why!

There were many reasons for her decision: Kurt was just as unpopular as her, but not at all a Lima loser, and was destined for greater things, just like Rachel; he was gay, but clearly had not come to terms with it, and Rachel was one of the only people at their school who could help him do so; he was in desperate need of friends; he was fashionable; he seemed to be a good listener (except for the few times he interrupted); but most importantly, their voices would meld _perfectly._ She'd only had to listen to him sing for a few seconds to come to this important realization. They were perfect duet partners. That, in her mind, was more important than anything, and it was what ultimately led her to the realization that she and Kurt were destined to be platonic soul mates for life.

So tonight, she would go home and plan, and tomorrow she would begin her quest. Mission: Make Kurt Hummel my Best Friend.

And Kurt certainly had no say in the matter.

* * *

**A/N: **I plan for this story to be eaqul parts sweet and funny, with very little drama, with a healthy dose of crazy! but well-meaning!Rachel. I'm not sure how quickly I'll update, because I have a new story (Fabray Triplets) that I've just started publishing, and I still need to post the second part of Queen of Heart, my Faberry two-shot (it's giving me such a hard time!), but let me know what you thought and if you want me to continue it. Love you guys!


End file.
